


to distract and sedate

by ObjectiveObscene



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred Gets Overwhelmed, Anatomy Is Wack, Cold War Era, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Human Experimentation? Kinda?, Ivan Does A Bad Thing, M/M, Non-Consensual Vivisection, Stockholm Syndrome, will update tags as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23905051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObjectiveObscene/pseuds/ObjectiveObscene
Summary: ivan gets alfred to open up to him.
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

Alfred’s eyes opened slowly, his vision struggling to focus. He tried to move his hand to wipe the cloudiness from his eye but found his hand was tied down. In fact, both hands were bound. Alfred careened his neck as far as he could, seeing what looked like a leather belt holding him to a simple panel of metal. There was one belt around his wrist and another around his bicep, keeping his arm firmly in place. He glanced to the other side to see the exact same holding his other arm. Alfred then looked down. His thighs and ankles were bound as well. His clothing was still intact, but he felt his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose as he looked downward. Alfred whipped his head up, trying to force his glasses back up onto his face. They stayed on, but not as securely as he wanted. 

Alfred took a moment to analyze his surroundings. He didn’t recognize the room he was in. The walls were gray, and seemed clean, but not medical. There was only a single door in front of him and no windows. The room was small, probably only twenty feet by twenty feet. The only other object in the room was a metal fold-out chair, sitting at his left. 

Alfred wasn’t afraid. He was just confused. The last thing he could recall was being with Ivan. They were supposed to be having a diplomatic meeting over lunch in Moscow. He remembers the argument getting particularly heated, but from there his mind just goes blank. He recalled the borscht that the chef had prepared for the two of them. He remembered digging into the meal almost immediately, and Ivan just watching him eat. It should’ve been a dead giveaway that something was up. God, how stupid he was. Stupid and hungry.

Alfred struggled against his restraints harder, pulling as hard as he could on his arms. If he could just get one arm free he could escape the room. He tried to get his hand to touch the leather restraint holding him in place but was only able to graze it with his fingertips. He clenched his teeth and tried to thrash himself free once more.

The door handle moved downwards and the door creaked open. Ivan shuffled in with a metal cart, a variety of tools clanking together as he did so. His eyes widened at the sight of Alfred’s consciousness. 

“Ah. You’re awake.” Ivan blinked.

“The fuck is the deal, russki?” Alfred jolted his arms once more.

Ivan moved the cart next to where Alfred was restrained and then came close to Alfred’s ear. “You got on my nerves. And now I want to get on yours.” 

“You’ve been on my fucking nerves. Commie pig.” Alfred spat on Ivan’s cheek. 

Ivan backed away and then wiped the spit onto the back of his glove. He then grabbed the collar of Alfred’s shirt. “Calm down. Things will be easier.”

“Bite me.” Alfred scowled. 

Ivan slammed Alfred’s chest back up against the sheet of metal he was attached to. Alfred exhaled loudly. Ivan promptly wrapped his right hand around Alfred’s exposed neck, holding him in place. 

Alfred stared Ivan directly in the eyes. “Cut the shit, commie,” he croaked out. 

Ivan didn’t break eye contact as Alfred talked. “No, I do not think I will.” He moved his free hand to unbutton the first button on Alfred’s shirt. 

“The fuck, dude? Is this some sort of sex thing? Fucking stop.” 

Ivan continued to unbutton the shirt. “No, not a sex thing. Unless this sort of thing gets you off.” 

“Then why the fuck…” Alfred broke the intense eye contact to look down. “Are you undressing me?”

Ivan cocked his head slightly, feigning confusion. “It would be quite hard to open you up with a shirt on.” 

Alfred’s skin went pale. “The fuck was that?”

“I’m going to open you up. Cut open right,” Ivan traced his finger vertically along Alfred’s now exposed chest, “Here.”

“Haha. Very funny, dude. I get it, you want to scare me. Let me go.”

“No, I’m quite serious. I would not go through all of this trouble for a prank.”

That’s right. Alfred knew he wouldn’t. 

Ivan finished unbuttoning the shirt and left Alfred’s chest completely exposed. 

Alfred’s breath started getting shaky. “Dude. Please. Stop.”

Ivan backed away. 

Alfred closed his eyes and sighed in relief. “Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthank-” He opened his eyes again, only to see Ivan brandishing a scalpel. “Fuck.” 

“Please don’t move. The scars will be very ugly if you move around.” 

Alfred’s vision started to get blurry, tears clouding his vision. His breathing became minimal as panic began to set in. “Fuck.” He looked down, seeing Ivan move his scalpel to just above where his sternum began. 

“This is going to sting, okay?” Ivan didn’t try hiding his own joy, a soft smile on his lips.

“Fuck you.” 

Ivan drew the scalpel down Alfred’s chest, cutting as deeply as he could. Crimson blood began to spill out almost immediately, coating the tip of the scalpel and Alfred's skin. The scent of iron filled the air. Alfred bit down on his lower lip, trying to block out the intense pain in his chest. Tears began streaming down his face without his permission. 

“Okay. First cut down. Not so bad, yes?” Ivan grinned.

Alfred continued to bite his lip, tasting blood on his tongue. 

Ivan leaned into Alfred’s ear once more. “You can scream. In fact, I encourage it.” 

Alfred let out a small whimper in response. 

“Good. Don’t be afraid to be loud, though. Okay?” Ivan kissed the top of Alfred’s head. He ruffled his hair slightly and then turned his focus back to the bleeding gash on Alfred’s chest. 

“I’m going to make two more cuts, okay? And then there will be no more cutting.” 

Alfred wheezed. “Okay.”

Ivan made another incision, perpendicular to the last one, and right below the clavicle. Alfred yelped at this new cut. Droplets of blood began forming along the cut and dribbled downwards. Alfred’s vision started blurring even further, the pain becoming too overwhelming to bear. Ivan quickly made the second cut at the bottom of Alfred’s abdomen, not allowing him to become accustomed to the first. 

“This is going to be the worst part. Okay?” Ivan still had that innocent smile on his face. 

Alfred merely grunted in response. 

Ivan grabbed the corner of blood-stained skin and tugged slightly. “I’m going to open you now.” 

“P…” Alfred had to take a deep breath. “Please don’t.”

“You don’t have a choice in this situation.” 

Alfred whimpered again as Ivan began tearing the skin away from his body. The pain before was excruciating, sure, but this was worse. It felt like his chest was on fire. Pure searing pain shot right to his head. He couldn’t breathe properly anymore, his breath spiking at seemingly random times. Alfred refused to look down and acknowledge what was happening to himself. 

“One side down.” Ivan patted the newly exposed part of Alfred’s insides with his gloved hand. 

Alfred sniffled. “One… One.”

“Yes! One.” Ivan moved back over to his cart of tools and grabbed a pin. He grabbed the flap of skin he just severed and pinned it down to Alfred’s exposed side to keep it out of the way. He then began peeling the other side of skin upwards, even slower than the previous bit of skin. Alfred tried desperately to thrash against the movement, only to find his body horrifically weak after being torn open.

“Okay. Let me pin this-” Yet another sharp pain shot through Alfred’s other side. “And you’re open for business!” Ivan let out a small laugh. 

Alfred wheezed. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to take himself out of the moment. He tried to focus on the corner of the ceiling tiles in a futile attempt to ground himself.

Ivan grabbed onto Alfred’s face and forced him to look at him. “Dear. Please focus. This is the best part.” 

Alfred couldn’t muster up any words. Not a single stupid retort came to his lips. 

“You’re so quiet. Why? Is this too much?” Ivan asked. 

“Mm… Mhm.” 

“It’s almost over. I swear.” Ivan let Alfred’s face go, allowing his head to fall to the side.

Alfred finally allowed his eyes to wander. He saw his entire chest was exposed, completely covered in blood. He could clearly make out his own ribcage, as well as a bundle of intestines below it. It was a mess. Blood covered the floor below him, as well as his uniform pants. His skin was peeled up and pinned back, leaving him completely exposed. 

He saw Ivan’s hand go into the area below his ribs, right in between the folds of his intestines. He grabbed onto it. Alfred could see that Ivan had grabbed onto his small intestine, yet he could hardly feel it. 

“Isn’t this fun? Look at you.” Ivan looked up to Alfred. “Lovely, isn’t it?”

Alfred tried to shake his head. 

Ivan frowned. He then removed both of his thoroughly bloodied gloves, completely exposing his hands. The display of skin made Alfred raise his eyebrows. 

“Oh?” Ivan tapped on Alfred’s sternum with his finger. “If you hate this so much I can ramp things up a bit for you.”

“N… No. This… Fine.”

“Good.” Ivan then hastily inserted his hand back into Alfred’s guts, not giving him a moment to adjust to the sudden addition to his abdomen. 

Alfred exhaled loudly. 

“Too much? Apologies.” Ivan slowly drew his hand back out. “I think I should finish up if you’re going to be so stubborn about this, yes?” 

Alfred nodded as best as he could. 

“Okay. I just want one more thing, okay?” 

“Mm.” Alfred sputtered out. Ivan took that as an agreement to his terms.

“Good.” Ivan slipped his hand underneath the bottom of Alfred’s ribcage, touching the spongy material of his lungs and the diaphragm. He wiggled his hand underneath, knowing exactly what he was looking for. 

It was smoother than expected. Still throbbing and pulsating, trying desperately to continue to function. Ivan couldn’t help but grin at the sensation. Alfred’s heart was so frantic in its movements it made Ivan giddy. He could almost feel his own heart skip a beat.

Alfred, however, was completely overwhelmed. His face was stark white in pure shock. His body didn’t feel like his own anymore. He could feel Ivan’s fingers inside of his chest and it was both entirely new and entirely strange. Unlike with when Ivan touched his intestines he was fully aware that his heart was being held. Tenderly cradled in Ivan’s large hand. 

Ivan carefully slipped his hand back outside of the bottom of Alfred’s ribcage. He then lifted up Alfred’s head with his blood-soaked hand, seeing Alfred’s blood cover his face, intermixing with the fresh tears that still stained his cheek. 

“You did so well, dear. So very well.” Ivan caressed his thumb over Alfred’s cheek. 

Alfred refused to make eye contact with Ivan.

“I’ll stitch you up now, okay?” 

Alfred didn’t even make a sound. He felt his body getting unbelievably weak from the previous stimuli. Everything hit him all at once. He couldn’t even bear to keep his eyes open at this point.

“Okay. You can rest. I’ll clean up.” 

And with that, Alfred heard nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred woke up in pain. His entire abdomen felt like it was on fire. He tried to move his hand and, to his surprise, found that he was able to pick it up with relative ease. No more restraints. He moved his other hand and grabbed at his wrist. It stung to touch, as there was skin rubbed raw from where he had been restrained. Alfred coughed dryly and began to sit up. Even that simple movement took a lot out of him. 

“You’re up!”

Alfred whipped his head to face the source of the voice. He wasn’t shocked to find it belonged to the same violet-eyed bastard who cut him open. Ivan sat at his side in a wooden chair, watching Alfred attentively. He wasn’t wearing the same elaborate military uniform he had on earlier. Instead he had a simple black button up shirt and deep red slacks, of course paired with his usual scarf. Alfred made a mental note about how blood would hardly show up on Ivan’s current clothing. 

Alfred averted his eyes, taking this moment to analyze his own condition rather than respond. He had no shirt on, and he could see that his chest was wrapped in bandages. Alfred had his glasses on, as he could see the details in the fabric of the bandages. He was wearing some beige flannel pants that he didn’t recognize. He was also on a bed now. A real bed, with a metal frame and a mattress. The sheets were a sickly pastel floral pattern, and the comforter was the same. 

He looked down to the floor and found it to be the same concrete that he stared at not too long ago. The walls were also the same gray he had seen previously. There were two different doors in this room, one made of wood and the other out of what looked like steel. He surmised the steel door was the room’s exit. Alfred then began to wonder how large the place Ivan held him was. There were no windows, so it was likely underground. Perhaps he was being kept in some weird Soviet torture chamber below the Kremlin. It wouldn’t surprise him. He knew the Russians did some messed up stuff but he didn’t expect it to be this elaborate. 

“Fuck off, commie.” Alfred wanted to insult Ivan more but couldn’t find more scornful words.

“Alfred, I recommend you do not waste your energy. You need it to recover.” Ivan’s eyes were cold as he said this. 

“At least let me go home.” Alfred looked back up at Ivan.

Ivan paused. “My sincerest of apologies, but I will need you to stay here to recover.” Ivan’s expression didn’t flicker. He was serious. 

Alfred froze. “No, fuck you. I’m going home.” He needed to go to a hospital. Or a therapist. Maybe both.

“You shouldn’t be travelling. Too much movement could be bad, yes?” Ivan smiled slightly. 

Alfred put his hand to his chest, running his thumb over the bandages. He didn’t dare apply any pressure because he knew if he did the pain would get worse. “Why?” 

“Hm?” Ivan leaned forward in his chair, cocking his head to the side. “Why am I keeping you here? I thought that was obvious. You’re in no condition to-”

“No, you piece of shit.” Alfred furrowed his brows. “Why… Why would you… Do that.” He didn’t want to put words to what happened. It would only make it all the more real.

Ivan blinked. “Oh.” His eyes flickered for a moment, clearly looking for the right words to say. “Well, I’m sure you wanted to do the same to me, yes?” 

“No. No, I don’t want to fucking…” Alfred moved his hands in front of him, as if he was going to motion towards his chest, but immediately clenched fists and put them in his lap. “I’m not fucking insane. I would never.” 

“Not insane? Your country has missiles pointed at us as we speak, do they not?” 

“That’s different. You know it is. I’m not actively trying to fucking kill you.” 

“And I did not try to kill you.” Ivan’s smile grew wider, but it seemed more malicious than it was before. “Do you think you would be sitting here if I wanted you dead?”

Alfred opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it.

“That’s what I thought.” Ivan stood up and stretched his arms outwards, rolling his shoulders back. He must’ve been waiting for Alfred to wake up for a while. “With that I should probably fetch you a meal.” 

“I’m not eating any of your nasty food.” Alfred stopped himself before he could say the words ‘Not after last time.’ 

“You’ll change your mind.” Ivan walked towards the door and put his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll get you food anyway.” He then quickly opened the door, walked through, and shut it behind him. 

Alfred was alone for the first time in God knows how long. How long was he even asleep? How many days had he been missing? Certainly there were people looking for him. His boss was looking for him, right? He was supposed to be in Moscow for a week. Alfred was to be home soon. Someone would find him and take him back to D.C. 

Alfred stopped himself. Surely Ivan knew all of this. He probably made up some excuse to keep people from looking for him. Alfred could almost hear Ivan’s voice saying something about them having to extend his stay. ‘We found there were more details that needed to be ironed out than we originally thought. Surely it is no issue if he stays a week longer, yes?’ 

He threw his legs over the side of his bed and grimaced at the sharp pain in his stomach. Alfred instinctively put his hand to his abdomen, gritting his teeth. He thought that maybe he should look at his wounds before he tried to move further. 

Alfred grabbed at the bandage, tracing them back to the beginning of the fabric. He bit down on his lower lip as he unhooked the first of two small pieces of metal holding it together. After detaching the second hook he began unraveling the bandage around his body, letting it fall into his lap. The cotton pads weren’t taped down to his body so it fell along with the bandage. There was surprisingly minimal blood on the pads, leaving Alfred hopeful.

Then he looked at his chest. There was what looked like a capital letter I on his chest of where Ivan had cut him open, his flesh littered with sutures. The steel wire stitches were cleanly done, and strangely even, almost meticulously sewn into his skin. There wasn’t any dried blood currently on his person but the cuts were clearly still fresh. He knew it would heal way sooner than it would for the normal person, but Alfred had no clue how long it would take for the wound to heal up. He had never been injured this badly. 

Alfred shook his head and scooted to the very end of the bed. He needed better medical care than whatever Ivan was capable of providing. He lightly placed both of his feet on the cold concrete, taking as deep of a breath as he could manage. He then tried to adjust his weight so that he could stand up. The pain in his abdomen started to intensify but Alfred reassured himself it was fine. He just had to get to the door. He had to get to the door and he had to find a way out. 

Alfred pushed himself up suddenly. The movement was too much for Alfred’s knees, who hadn’t been properly used in so long that he simply fell to the ground. He shielded his face with his arms as he did so, but his knees slammed directly into the concrete, adding to Alfred’s list of physical ailments. 

Ivan was right. There was no way he could leave in his condition. He couldn’t even walk properly. 

Tears began streaming down Alfred’s face without his permission. He was supposed to be the world’s hero and yet here he was, in some Soviet bunker, with a chest full of sutures. It was just supposed to be a diplomatic meeting. A mere exchange of words over some nonsense proxy wars. He moved his glasses to his forehead and buried his face in his elbow, choking out sobs. 

He didn’t notice Ivan had walked back in until he felt a large hand on top of his head. Alfred flinched, but Ivan kept his hand there, softly, petting Alfred’s blonde hair. 

“I told you you shouldn’t be moving too much.” Ivan stated.

Alfred didn’t say anything, he just nodded as best as he could. 

“I can help you back up onto the bed. I’m also going to need to put on some fresh bandages.” 

Alfred took a moment to collect himself. He lifted his head up, wiped his tears, and put his glasses back on as they were supposed to be worn. “Okay.” 

Ivan moved his hand from Alfred’s hair to his face, rubbing his thumb in the area of his cheek next to his lips. “Good.” Ivan then moved his arms below Alfred’s and wrapped them around his torso, putting his own face in the crook of Alfred’s neck as he did so. One hand was touching Alfred’s waist and the other was placed right in between his shoulder blades.

Alfred couldn’t help but notice about how soft Ivan’s skin was. The man who felt no remorse about cutting him open had soft skin. He shook off the thought.

Ivan quickly lifted Alfred up off the ground and back to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re quite lucky I brought bandages with me.” He picked up the fresh cotton pad bandage off of the tray he had brought in with Alfred’s meal. 

He held a large cotton pad to Alfred’s chest. “Can you hold this down for me?” 

Alfred nodded and put his hands on the pad, keeping it steady. 

“Thank you.” He then grabbed the bandage and began wrapping it around Alfred’s chest, keeping it as snug as possible. He then secured it with two small hooks. 

“I should probably get going. I have other things to attend to.” Ivan picked up Alfred’s old bandages and put them in his pocket. He then gestured to the tray he had set down on the chair. “I’m sorry I don’t have any American food for you. I hope bread and pelmeni will do. You can eat it now, but you would probably prefer it while it’s warm.” He tapped on his chin. “Oh, and the restroom is behind the wooden door, should you need it.” 

Alfred paused. “Thank you.” His stomach turned at the fact that he thanked the person who imprisoned him. 

“It is my pleasure.” Ivan put his hand on the doorknob and twisted, pulling the door open. He began to step through but then turned to face Alfred once more.

“The door will be locked, by the way. Don’t try anything stupid, yes?” Ivan flashed a smile and shut the door behind him, not waiting for an answer.

Alfred sat alone. He stared down the new fixture in his room. A simple tray, sat atop a chair, with silverware, a glass of water, bread, and dumplings. The smell of the freshly made pelmeni was making him hyper aware of the fact that he didn’t know when he last ate. He couldn’t help but have his mind wander to his most recent meal, one that he never finished. 

Did Ivan put something in this meal too? Maybe he put poison in it so that Alfred wouldn’t tell anyone what happened. Would Ivan sink that low? Alfred’s lip twitched at the thought. 

Alfred didn’t want to eat anything Ivan provided, the savory aroma was so very tempting. To be entirely honest Alfred had no clue what pelmeni was, but it looked tortelloni adjacent enough that it couldn’t be too bad, right?

He picked up the fork Ivan had left him and picked up a single dumpling, analyzing it. It smelled like it was full of meat. It honestly looked good. There was also a small dish of what looked like sour cream on the side, presumably for dipping. He dunked the dumpling in the sour cream and bit down on his lower lip. A single bite couldn’t hurt, right?

Alfred bit down, savoring the taste. It was perfect. The ground beef was unseasoned but the meat itself was so flavorful it didn’t matter. The cold sour cream and the warm dumpling were delicious together. 

Alfred went in for another dumping. And then another. Before he knew it he had finished his plate.

And he felt fine.


End file.
